Metaphors for Raising Kids

I speak carefully and lovingly to any of the adults of the Church, parents or otherwise, who may be given to cynicism or skepticism, who in matters of whole-souled devotion always seem to hang back a little, who at the Church’s doctrinal campsite always like to pitch their tents out on the periphery of religious faith. To all such—whom we do love and wish were more comfortable camping nearer to us—I say, please be aware that the full price to be paid for such a stance does not always come due in your lifetime. No, sadly, some elements of this can be a kind of profligate national debt, with payments coming out of your children’s and grandchildren’s pockets in far more expensive ways than you ever intended it to be.

Three good potential fables in these (just for fun, the originals don’t need improved on).

1. Two brothers set up sheep ranches on the frontier. They soon learned that there where the wolves howled, the coyotes prowled, mountain lion tracks could be seen in the morning, and even bobcats attacked the lambs, herding the sheep into an enclosure at night had to happen. In their respective newly built enclosures, both flocks pushed and prodded against the outside fencing. “Those idiot sheep are surly rebels,” the one brother said. “Look at them trying to get out to where the wolves are. I guess its just no use,” and he opened the gates and let the sheep be prey. The other brother said, “Look at those sheep testing to see if the fence is secure, I’d better double check myself,” and he did. He found a few spots that needed strengthening.

2. I can’t really improve on the second one. In a certain large field the cattle could reach through the barbed wire fence to nip succulent, ungrazed greenery. In fact, by leaning into the fence, which held their weight, they could reach even farther. One day as the cattle were so doing, some calves slipped through the gaps in the strands caused by the adult cattle leaning through, and went out into the wilderness where they were eaten by dogs. Their parents lamented, “didn’t we always teach them the value of respecting the fence?”

3. Still waiting for inspiration to strike on this one.

Edit: here’s a couple of shots at #3

Imagine if firewood could think and move a bit. You might have a blazing fire where one log thinks, “its crowded here with all the other logs, how much better I could blaze if I weren’t having to scrap for every puff of oxygen to feed my flames?” So the log worked its way to the edge. Out of the heat of the main fire, the smaller flames on the log went out and then the log itself cooled. [dunno about this one]

A bison left the dust and heat of the herd to wander out into the greener grasses. “After all,” the bison thought, “no doubt I am big enough and fast enough to avoid predators and the only risks are to me.” The bison was correct. However, the bison’s calf tried to join it and was killed by wolves.

Follow-up: Other bison saw the one bison successfully grazing the sweet, untrampled grasses (but perhaps were not aware of the fate of the calf) and decided to do likewise. Simple, they said. Keep alert, run back to the herd if danger threatens, and meanwhile graze good grass. More and more of them did this until they had spread to the horizon and there was no herd. When danger threatened, they had nowhere to run.

Moral: don’t try to separate yourself from the people and customs you rely on.

Another attempt:

The sons of the god of fire went down into the world. The first son fell as a lightning strike on a lone, dead tree. “Here,” he said, “I can blaze without interference from any of my brothers,” and he did. But in time his fire went out.

The second son fell as lightning on a forest in summer. “Yes,” he said, “my flames will spread to other trees calling down other brothers to join me, but won’t it be glorious how we spread?” He became as big and as roaring a flame as it was possible for a fire-son to be, and many of his brothers with him also. But when the forest was burned, they died.

The third son of fire beheld the fate of his two brothers. “If death is inevitable,” he said, “then I must die memorably.” He petitioned the God of Gods to be the means whereby the pleas of a certain prophet to light a water-soaked altar on fire were answered. His petition being granted, he fell from the heavens, lit the altar, caused the bullocks thereon to be consumed, and raised a sweet smoke unto heaven. Though his flames died out on the altar soon enough, his fire was remembered and it was said he lit a fire in the hearts of men.

A fourth son heard the humble prayer of a woodcutter whose hearthfire had gone out through illness and a great storm. The son fell on a small pile of wood in the hearth. There he was daily tended and fed as the woodcutter married and had a family. His embers were brought to the woods for charcoal fires, when the children of the family grew up they took coals with them, such that the hearth fire begot other hearth fires. After a hundred years, the fire and its progeny were still burning.

Moral: not sure, I like this one but I got a bit far afield from the actual point. There are points to be made in favor of more than one of the sons of fire.